Iron hearts bring crimson tears
by Trikster
Summary: An unfortunate event makes Aoshi realize that Misao is more precious to him than he had ever imagined before...Will he tell her?
1. Stronger than you think, Aoshi-sama

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki-san and I think it's like Jump Comics, or something. I dunno. I have no clue. _ Anyways, obviously it's not mine, this is just a story I had floating in my head that I needed to get out. It's for my own personal pleasure mainly, but reviews help me make my writing better! If you like the story, or even if you think it's crap, please review and tell me! ^^ Danke.  
  
  
  
  
  
Soft rain fell onto the Aoiya roof, a light percussion that created an aura of peace and serenity for its inhabitants.  
  
Except for one.  
  
One 16 year old ninja girl was desperately wishing the sky would just open up and pour out rain like stinging bullets while thunder roared and lightning tore the satin of the night. Then the weather would match her mood. It was too tame for the storm in her heart; she thought it an injustice that the world could be so peaceful outside while she was breaking down inside.  
  
Misao leaned her cheek on one slim hand, staring out the window into the dark wet landscape. Everyone else was asleep, she was sure, Okon and Omasu, Jiya, not Aoshi-sama…  
  
Aoshi-sama… Misao sighed and closed her shutters, refusing to let her thoughts wander onto that particular path. Aoshi had been gone for a week now, after an urgent call from the Himura residence. Of course she hadn't been allowed to go since her ankle was still mending and she would have never been able to keep up with Aoshi's swift pace. Damn the fates that gave her an injury right when she could be the most helpful. A Yukaza gang from Osaka had begun stirring up trouble in Tokyo, of course Aoshi-sama would go and offer his assistance. Not that he gave a single thought to how dangerous it could be, or how much she would miss him while he was gone. Kenshin had said perhaps three days, four at most since it was a relatively small band of gangsters.  
  
Had it been raining steadily in Tokyo? Perhaps the storm was worse there and Aoshi-sama hadn't been able to travel. Misao clung to that hope like a lifesaver.  
  
Besides, she reasoned with herself. Kaoru or Kenshin would have written if something had happened.  
  
But messages couldn't travel in rain! Misao kicked at her covers and cursed under her breath. She would drive herself crazy with such thoughts. Willing her heart to clear and her mind to empty, she flopped down onto the futon and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, all that could be heard in the Aoiya was the even breathing and slight snoring from its occupants.  
  
~*****~~~~*~*~*  
  
Miles away, a tall dark figure was perched on a different window sill, his legs folded underneath him and his blue-green eyes half closed. Two kodachis lay on the floor beside him, along with a trenchcoat and a black shirt. Shinomori Aoshi rested with his chest bare against the wood panel, his thoughts almost as troubled as a certain weasel girl's.  
  
Was Misao faring well? Should he have left her alone with a broken ankle and a watery smile? Of course she would smile to try and fool him. He knew she had wanted to come with him, but she absolutely refused to let them see how upset she was as he left. She was too young to be Okashira, too young to have such responsibility on her small shoulders.  
  
She has grown, a little voice reminded him. Not grown enough, he responded. He could remember holding her when she was a baby, he was only 26 now! How could she have grown?  
  
He forced his thoughts away from Misao and back to his present dilemma. He could have traveled in the light rain that fell over Tokyo, but Kaoru-san had insisted he stay for another night. He had a feeling she was a little lonely in the dojo by herself. Kenshin and the Roosterhead were still at Hajime Saitou's house, going over last-minute plans for dealing with the remaining Yukaza.  
  
Ichihashinsei, they called themselves. "One Holy Blade." Aoshi's lip curled in involuntary disgust. A band of ragtag fighters, that's what they were. Corrupted by false ideals and justifying their senseless violence with Shinto teachings. Himura may have taken a vow never to slay again, but he himself had made no such promise with his soul. Ichihashinsei were just plain stupid. They deserved to die for their deeds.  
  
A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and Aoshi hopped off the window sill. Such thoughts were no use to him or anyone else. Though he wouldn't admit it to the fox doctor, he was exhausted and felt battered in a hundred places. The Ichihashinsei may have been stupid, but they were strong, and they had training in ancient techniques mainly taught by monks. It was hard to keep up with them, but in a bladeless fight, they were cowards. The trick was to disarm them.  
  
A whole week spent fighting the Yukaza was beginning to take its toll. He had stubbornly refused any and all medicine or assistance, convincing himself that all he needed was sleep. He eased his sore, lean frame onto the floor and pulled up his blanket. In a second's time, he was asleep.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Misao-chan…wake up…mezameru! Wake up, Misao-chan!" Misao groaned and rolled over on the futon, pushing away the hands on her shoulder.  
  
"Mmph…go 'way, Omasu…"  
  
Omasu pursed her lips and, in one fluid movement, yanked the futon out from underneath the half-awake ninja girl. Misao yelped and hit the wood floor with a bang.  
  
"Omaaassuuuuu!" She jumped up and chased her out of the room, both Oniwabanshuu shrieking and laughing. They skidded to a halt in front of Okina as the old man was turning the corner. He raised an eyebrow and placed a tray in Omasu's hands and a cup of tea in Misao's.  
  
"Slow down, both of you, and have some breakfast. Misao, I need you to get something from the market today." The young Okashira opened her mouth to protest, but Okina held up his hand and silenced her complaints.  
  
"No buts, Misao-chan, it won't take long."  
  
"Jiya, can't Okon go instead?"  
  
He shook his head and made shooing motions. "No, she's busy at the Aoiya today. Drink your tea and get dressed. Don't take all day about it, either! I need that salmon by this afternoon."  
  
Misao groaned and gulped the scalding tea before trudging back to her room. Omasu gave her a cheerful wave and disappeared into the kitchen. Once inside her room, she pulled on her regular black outfit and braided her long hair into its usual plait. Today didn't seem like anything special, so she saw no reason to wear anything different.  
  
She ran down the hallway and out the door, stopping only to call "ja ne!" to Omasu in the kitchen. Outside, the rain had stopped but the skies were still a murky gray, hiding the sun and any promise of a dry day. Birds came out to rest tentatively in the damp tree branches, showering Misao with leftover rain each time they hopped from one place to another. She didn't mind, it was nice to be out of the Aoiya after so long cooped up inside. Her leg was sore, but she could walk on it with only a slight limp.  
  
It was still early, and few people were out in the marketplace yet. Shopkeepers were busy setting out their wares, merchants were already beginning to hawk their own products. Misao located the fish seller's stand and stood behind a portly old woman who was haggling over the price of a large tuna. Misao let her eyes wander to the netfuls of shrimp in baskets, wrinkling her nose at the smell of freshly caught fish. Since when did Jiya start eating salmon?  
  
Wait a minute… Early spring rains meant the salmon weren't spawning anymore. None of the fishermen brought salmon in until the seventh week of spring. What was Jiya thinking, sending her out on a fool's errand?  
  
No, she thought to herself in irritation. Jiya had sent her out of the Aoiya to get some exercise on her healing leg. Why hadn't he just told her to get out of the restaurant for some fresh air?  
  
"He's trying to keep me from training," she muttered furiously. The old woman looked at her strangely, but she ignored her and began walking quickly away from the fish stand. If Okina wouldn't let her train, she didn't want to waste her time amongst all these people. In another hour, the streets would be choked with buyers and their families. Misao was angry that she was being treated like a nuisance or, worse, a young child who needed to be turned out of doors so that she wouldn't annoy her elders.  
  
"Where do they get off trying to fool me like that? I'm the Okashira, for Kami's sake! Surely I've proved I'm old enough not to need coddling. There's nothing wrong with my leg, I'm perfectly alright to train!" Her thoughts soon turned stormy once more, and she walked for quite some time, her head trained straight ahead but her eyes focusing on nothing in particular. After about half an hour of stomping angrily along the main street, she slowed her pace and looked around.  
  
"Chotto…This isn't the main street," she said absentmindedly. Somewhere along the way, she had taken a wrong turn into a much older, less well-kept area of Kyoto. No one was outside yet, the whole neighborhood looked like it was sleeping. The houses and buildings were dirty and the streets were unkempt and cluttered with filth. She was wrong; a few women and several men were lingering in the early morning shadows outside of the buildings. They looked at her as if she weren't welcome, as if they were wondering what a skinny little ninja girl was doing in their territory. She gulped down the nervousness that welled in her throat and turned around to begin retracing her steps.  
  
"You lost, little missie?" An oily voice greeted her as she came face to face with three greasy-looking men. One of them had the unmistakable shape of a dagger underneath his yukata, the other two had bokkens resting lazily in their hands. Misao kept the fear out of her expression and her voice as she replied, simply,  
  
"No."  
  
She began walking down the street again, doing her best to hide her limp by walking slowly and deliberately. The men weren't fooled.  
  
"Hey, cutie, as long as you're in the neighborhood…" one of them called out suggestively. Misao began walking faster.  
  
"Don't leave, you just got here!" They were laughing now, confident that she couldn't run away. Misao began jogging.  
  
Now they were after her, laughing and jeering as they sprinted. The pain in her ankle was becoming unbearable as she choked back sobs and forced her body to move faster. Damn her absent mind for not bringing her kunai along! Her breath was coming in ragged gasps now, testament to too long without proper training. She took shallow breaths when her weight was on the bad leg and long gulps when it was on the good left leg, as Aoshi and Shijukso had taught her many years ago. How else could she turn an injury into an advantage? There was nothing for it, she had no weapons so she certainly wasn't going to stop and fight three men with only three fully working limbs. She spotted a dark alley to her left and ducked into it, tripping over a rock as she dashed along.  
  
"OOF!" As soon as her hands smacked the ground, she had pushed herself up and began jogging again. The three men passed her by once before doubling back and following her labored breathing down the alleyway. Misao scooped up a fist-sized rock and twisted around to chuck it as she slowed her pace slightly. It struck the frontrunner square in the middle of his forehead and he dropped to the ground. His companions, however, kept up the chase, and soon they were only a foot away from her and closing the distance fast. She managed to put on an extra burst of speed, only to trip over another patch of grass. Her bad leg twisted painfully underneath her, and all hope was gone for her escape.  
  
"Help! Please, someone help me!" she screamed. No one came, no one answered. The two remaining men sniggered and advanced toward the fallen girl. Sudden anger came over Misao, these creeps were trying to take something that belonged to her and was hers to give to whatever man she chose, not some under-city scum. And, if she didn't kill them now, they'd be free to do it again, to more girls who would be at an even greater disadvantage. Hadn't Aoshi-sama fought with ribs broken and ankles twisted before? And here she was, cringing on the ground like a defenseless maiden.  
  
Filled with new vigor, Misao twisted her body to the right, just as one of the men grabbed for her shirt top. She pushed off against the wall to get herself onto her feet. Once she was standing, although it was painful, she felt more confident and able to fight. Her blue eyes searched wildly for any ammunition; the dagger inside the second man's yukata caught her vision. She delivered a punch to his windpipe that made him bend over for air; using his slight hesitation she reached into the folds of his yukata and wrenched the dagger out of its ties. Angrily, he straightened up and took a swing at her; his added slowness was to her advantage as she ducked beneath the oncoming arm and slashed down once with the dagger, then once again to finish him off. He slumped to the ground in a pool of blood. The last man standing kicked her stomach, sending her back a few steps. She shook the fuzziness out of her vision and faked a kick with her left foot to his right ribs; as he dodged the blow she brought her right fist crashing into his temple. He staggered a few paces before she struck him with the dagger as well. He was dead on the first blow. Misao swung it into his chest twice more to be sure.  
  
By now she was exhausted, completely spent with the excess strain on her newly injured leg. She was in terrible shape, of that she was certain. Now just to get back to the Aoiya was her goal. Fat drops of water spilt onto her sweaty face, mingling with a small trickle of blood from a cut on her cheekbone. She looked up, her ocean blue eyes filled with the sight of storm clouds moving in, and rain falling heavier from the sky. A gusty sigh emitted forth from her bruised lungs, but she began walking down the alley with the dagger in her right hand and her left hand on the wall for support.  
  
Overall, this had been a very interesting day. And it was only just mid-morning.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Aoshi reached the Aoiya just as the last sunrays were disappearing into the western sky. The rain had cleared up on his walk from Tokyo around early afternoon, it was late evening now. His clothes and hair were still slightly damp from the wetness, and a leftover winter chill was setting in. He shivered slightly before entering the yard, noticing with mild surprise that almost all the lights were on. Did they have a guest?  
  
An elderly man, hunched over and wrinkled with great age exited the front door of the Aoiya. Upon passing Aoshi, he smiled and nodded to the taller man.  
  
"Kon bon wa, Shinomori-san. Back from your trip?"  
  
Aoshi nodded slightly to the Oniwabanshuu's preferred Doctor Kirikai. "Is someone ill?"  
  
"Makimachi-san had a little run-in on the streets today, I think it's better explained in her words. Good night, Shinomori-san." Kirikai hobbled out into the yard as Aoshi flew past him into the Aoiya. Without even stopping to take off his coat, he burst through the door into Misao's room, where Okina and Omasu were seated on the floor next to a sleeping figure. Aoshi's face must have been frightening to behold, for Omasu was off the floor in an instant, bowing to the former Okashira and running out to get fresh towels. Okina got to his feet as well, and nodded to Misao's form on the futon.  
  
"If you wake her, I'll forbid you to enter her room," he warned. "There was no need to come tearing in like that, she's fine."  
  
Aoshi ignored the warning. "What happened?"  
  
"I sent her out to the marketplace, and she made a wrong turn into a bad part of town. Apparently three men attacked her, but she had taken no weapons and her leg was bothering her again. She said she killed two and stunned one with a rock and a dagger. She may have won, but she suffered a bit for it."  
  
In this light, Misao's pale face and the receding scar on her cheekbone did not look like "a bit" of suffering to Aoshi. He knew better than to say anything, or to let his emotions show on his face, however. He simply nodded and kneeled down to take off his trenchcoat and lay his kodachis on the floor. Okina left him alone in the room, handing him a warm wet towel and strict instructions not to wake Misao.  
  
Once he was gone, Aoshi looked down at the 16 year old girl he had raised ever since he was a boy himself. She looked peaceful in her slumber, but every so often he could see her face twitch in pain. He looked at the towel in his hand, unsure of how he was supposed to take care of her if he wasn't allowed to wake her. The decision was made for him when Misao opened sleepy ocean-blue eyes and focused them on the tall man sitting next to her.  
  
"Aoshi-sama?"  
  
He nodded. She smiled, awake now and forgetful of the day's events for the moment. He pressed the towel to her forehead, and she closed her eyes again in contentment. Any kind of touch, even if it was separated by wet cloth, was welcome from Aoshi-sama.  
  
"Misao?" She looked up. "What happened today?"  
  
Her smile changed to a frown as memories caught up to her. Aoshi didn't miss the change in her countenance. "Jiya sent me out to the market, because I wasn't able to train or get exercise with my leg healing. I got angry when I realized how he had tricked me, I felt like a little kid that needed to be fooled." She paused, embarrassed now of her anger. I really am a child, she thought to herself remorsefully.  
  
Aoshi waited for her to continue. "I walked for a while, until I realized I was, um, lost. These three guys came after me, so I ran down an alley and threw a rock at one of them. I think he was unconscious, but still alive. I took another guy's dagger from him and killed the other two. I was stupid to wander like that, I'm sorry." She hung her head in shame, wishing she had let the men rape her and leave her in the streets like the worthless youth she was. A warm hand on her chin surprised her into lifting her head and meeting blue-green eyes that smiled without consent of the mouth below it.  
  
"Don't apologize. You know you made a mistake, and I know you'll never do something so careless again." Misao nodded, swallowing tears. He was so kind to her, but it was always the detached kindness, the older- brother kindness that killed her. And that was the only kindness he gave.  
  
Aoshi sighed and released her chin. He hadn't expected to come home to this. Gathering up his kodachis, he made to leave the room.  
  
"Chotto matte, Aoshi-sama!" He turned, holding the swords in his hand. Misao blushed and looked down.  
  
"Nevermind." He nodded and left the room. As soon as his form was out the door, she found a new flood of tears to swallow. The lump was becoming quite painful in her throat now. But a lump it would stay until the rain fell hard enough to muffle her cries.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
To be continued…. 


	2. Relief at last

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki-san, I am but a humble writer who drowns herself in fics like Yoji drowns himself in sex and beer. ^^  
  
Warnings: Aoshi may be a weee bit OOC here, but personally, I think everybody gets a little out of character when caught up in conflicting emotions. But, you'll just have to figure that out for yourself and read the rest of the fic. Enjoy, minna.  
  
  
  
Midnight found Kyoto besieged by thunderstorms, drenching the land in rain and providing the lightning and thunder Misao had craved the previous night. One particularly loud rumble shook the Aoiya frame, coupled with a crack of lightning that illuminated a pale face in the darkness. Misao sat up and threw off her covers, sweaty and trembling with the aftertaste of her nightmare. Her shutters had been blown wide open, and they banged against the walls of her room as she shivered on the futon.  
  
"Now it storms," she muttered to no one. It was a difficulty merely standing up on her feet, closing the window took an even greater effort. She limped back to her bed and was about to lie down when another clap of thunder sent her scurrying out into the hall. Everyone else seemed to be sound asleep, for no one came running to see what was the matter. Misao almost wished they had, because she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep alone tonight.  
  
That put her in an odd position indeed. She had leaned her back against the wall, thinking of who would be safest to crawl in bed with. Okon kicked out in her sleep, Omasu had the draftiest room in the Aoiya, Jiya snored like the devil…  
  
And Aoshi-sama was strictly off limits. Misao sighed wistfully and pushed herself off the wall. Even if it meant being a little colder, she'd have to bunk with Omasu tonight. Careful to keep her weight on her left leg, she limped down the hall towards the older girl's room. Her thoughts had somehow strayed once more to Aoshi, and she dearly wished it was his bedroom she was making her way to. He probably wouldn't refuse her, but it would be like sleeping next to a board all night. No, it would just be more pain to be in such close contact to her idol, she told herself. Aoshi didn't return her feelings, and that was all there was to it.  
  
Halfway down the hall, she smacked right into a solid figure. Thinking she had run into the wall, she put her hands out to redirect herself in the inky darkness. Misao let out a squeak of surprise when her hands came into contact with warm skin.  
  
"D-dare? Who?"  
  
"Misao, what are you doing out of bed?" She froze at the sound of his deep voice and backed up a painful step, bowing and apologizing profusely.  
  
"Gomen nasai, Aoshi-sama, I couldn't sleep in my room so I was going to Omasu's."  
  
"Why couldn't you sleep in your own room?"  
  
Misao bowed her head and mumbled, "Couldn't sleep alone." Her answer was met with silence from the man in front of her. Then she heard him sigh and felt herself being lifted into strong arms and carried back down the hall.  
  
"Aoshi-sama, I can walk by myself! And you're going the wrong way," she protested.  
  
Aoshi set her down on the futon in his room, stepping back to see her better in the dim light. "Don't go bothering Omasu, she's tired and her room is colder."  
  
"How would you know?" she asked shrewdly. The corners of his mouth turned up in a very faint smile, and she smiled herself just to see the amusement on his face.  
  
"Go to sleep, Misao-chan, it's late." She sighed at the 'chan' suffix and laid back on one side of the futon. With her eyes closed, she could hear Aoshi laying down to her left. She opened her eyes once more to see that he had turned over on his left side, facing the wall with his back towards her. She suppressed yet another disappointed sigh and turned over as well, so that now both of them had their backs to each other.  
  
"Aoshi-sama?"  
  
"Hn?" He sounded sleepy.  
  
"Did you take care of the Yukaza in Tokyo?"  
  
"Hai." Misao could tell he was drifting back to sleep, but she couldn't resist another question.  
  
"Were you injured?"  
  
A long silence came from the other side of the futon, and for a few minutes Misao was afraid he had fallen asleep. She rolled over on her other side and waited to hear his even breathing. Instead, he turned over to face her, just staring for long moments while she gulped nervously under his piercing gaze. Finally, he replied.  
  
"Not badly."  
  
"Oh." She fell silent again. He seemed to be waiting for more questions.  
  
"Are you going to sleep now?" he asked emotionlessly. She nodded and curled her legs underneath her, subconsciously shifting closer to Aoshi on the futon. He lay awake for about ten minutes until he was sure she was definitely sleeping. Once her deep, even breaths had convinced him, he kissed her forehead and put his arms around her. Just to be safe.  
  
Just to be sure.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Morning brought quiet showers splattering onto the stones and grass outside of the Aoiya, rousing the Oniwabanshuu to the start of another wet day. Omasu was the first one up; walking noiselessly to the kitchen, she began brewing a pot of tea for herself and the still-sleeping weasel girl. No doubt Aoshi would want some as well when he woke up.  
  
Where was Aoshi this morning? Usually he was up before dawn and headed for the temple. Omasu cocked her head and listened. All was silent except for the pot of tea whistling on the stove outside. Perhaps he had left early, and heaven knows when Okina would awaken. Shrugging to herself, she poured out two cups of tea and placed one on the table before taking the other to Misao.  
  
The shutters were open in the young Okashira's room, the covers strewn across the futon as if someone had made a hasty exit. Now where was Misao?? Omasu moved down the hallway and checked Okon's room, then Okina's, before stopping outside the door of Aoshi's. Surely Misao wouldn't be in there. But perhaps Aoshi had not left yet and knew where the ninja girl was.  
  
"Aoshi-san, have you seen Mi…" Her sentence trailed off as she recognized the two dark-headed forms on the futon. A frown curved on her lips at the sight of Misao's head tucked under Aoshi's chin, with Aoshi's arms around her smaller form. When would Aoshi realize Misao was no longer the child he had cared for? Misao would be heartbroken when Aoshi refused her once more without even realizing what he was doing. Misao would never tell him, but her feelings ran so much deeper than his. Omasu was sad as she set the teacup down on the floor and left the two sleeping ninjas. Hopefully Aoshi would not push the sleeping Okashira away once more. Omasu didn't think Misao could stand the agony.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Okashira in question woke a few minutes later, trapped in the unfamiliar embrace of Aoshi's arms. He was watching her with unreadable blue-green eyes, the sunlight hitting her face as she pressed herself closer. Her mind was completely awake and running yet, but all she knew was that this felt right somehow.  
  
Aoshi looked as if he wanted to release her, but how could he when she was spooning herself into his chest? He had to force himself to gently push her away and stand up on the wood floor. She opened her eyes and looked at him with something akin to sadness. He shoved that thought away and any other emotions that had dared to rise to the surface of his consciousness. Refusing to look at her again, he left the room without a word.  
  
Misao was devastated. Just when the ice-cold Aoshi-sama had shown the slightest hint of feeling towards her, something inside him had shut down and now he was even further out of reach. She had seen his eyes as he passed her, looking straight ahead as if her presence was no longer important to him. Was that how he dealt with his guilt? Building up walls around him so that no one could attempt to reach his heart?  
  
The notion that Aoshi could keep himself so far locked away nearly broke her own heart, but she had suffered worse disappointment in the past. Misao pushed herself off the floor and walked to her room on unsteady feet. Once she was dressed in a light blue robe, she gathered her clothes and made her way down to the bathhouse. Perhaps a nice soak would ease her pain, both physical and mental.  
  
On the way to the bathhouse, before she opened the door, Misao saw Aoshi cross the yard on his way to the temple. Sadness began welling in her throat, but she refused to shed one more tear for someone who would never return her feelings. If she didn't accept that now, her life would be utterly useless and devoted to chasing after invisible hopes that would only lead her to despair. Aoshi-sama obviously did not want love, especially not hers. Somehow, he had made that clear in his silent statement not fifteen minutes past. When he had pushed her away, something in her heart had given out like a loose support beam; she would not cry over Shinomori Aoshi again.  
  
Making her decision was painful, but Misao swallowed her tears and pushed open the door of the bathhouse. She set down her clothes and filled the circular tub with hot water, easing her bruised frame into the steaming relief. She let herself soak for a few minutes before washing her long black hair and rinsing it in the soapy water. Once her hair was clean, she pinned it up behind her head and let the soap travel over her aching limbs. A few minutes more to rinse, and then she was rising from the bath, wrapping herself in her robe. She unpinned her hair and combed it out quickly, dressing in the training outfit she had set on the floor. Jiya be damned, she was going to train today.  
  
Misao plaited her long, still damp hair and exited the bathhouse, ducking quickly into the Aoiya and limping into her room. She reapplied her bandages and wrapped her ankle tight, then using the same wrapping around the palms of her hands. Her kunai lay in a corner, gathering dust from so long without use. They felt familiarly solid in her bandaged hands, and she smiled to hold them again. Then she walked back out into the hall, moving much less painfully with the wrapping around her mending ankle.  
  
Omasu was still in the kitchen, so Misao skirted around the yard and into the training hall. No one was around to witness her escape, so she set up a wooden doll and sat down on the floor to stretch out stiff muscles. She flexed her fingers before standing up and trying a few experimental kicks with her left leg. So far, so good. Then her right. Misao winced and decided she would work on her left leg only today. She bent down to pick up the kunai and shifted her weight, bending her knees and arching her arm back to throw. Soon she had settled into the comfortable pattern of throw and retrieve, smiling each time a blade made the satisfying thunk into the wood. One more round of kunai, then she was forcing her protesting body through the training routines. Kicks and punches passed by along with the morning hours; by noon she was completely exhausted.  
  
"Misao! Misao-chan, doko desu ka? Misao, where are you?" Okon's shouting could be heard throughout the Aoiya, and Misao groaned aloud as Okon, accompanied by Okina, entered the training hall.  
  
"Makamachi Misao, what do you think you're doing? You should be in bed, resting!" Okon tugged the kunai free of the wooden doll and surveyed her sweaty form. Okina stood off to the side, saying nothing.  
  
"I've been resting for two weeks now, my skills are terrible! I had to get some exercise or I'd go insane."  
  
"I'd rather you go insane rather than break your ankle again, you should really go back to your room."  
  
Misao didn't reply. Anything she had to say would only sound like childish protests. Instead she resumed her paces and ignored Okon demanding that Okina make her stop. Okina replied to leave her alone, and then they were gone. She couldn't say she was unhappy to see them leave. Her pain was no one else's business but her own. What did it matter if she was sore? What did it matter if her lungs and legs were screaming in agony? Her heart was numb, and that was all she wanted. All she needed. As long as she couldn't feel her sadness, she'd be okay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Okon was angry, no, furious that Misao was working herself so hard. Why did she have to prove so much? Why couldn't she listen to reason? If she would listen to anyone, Okon decided, it would be Aoshi.  
  
Not caring that she was interrupting his meditation, Okon stomped through the entrance of the temple and stood before Aoshi's kneeling figure. He had already sensed her presence and was curious as to why Misao had not come to bring him lunch that day. Not that he had ever asked her to, but it had become a familiar routine. He also sensed Okon's battle aura and decided to open his eyes.  
  
"Do you know what Misao is doing right now?"  
  
"No," he replied blandly.  
  
"She's practically training herself to death, and she won't listen when I tell her to stop! Will you knock some sense into her? She has to rest her bad leg, and training is going to do nothing but make it worse. Not at the pace she's going."  
  
Mentally, Aoshi sighed and rubbed his forehead. Externally, he showed no outward emotion and nodded in reply. He got to his feet and followed Okon out of the temple, reflecting on the walk back to the Aoiya. What had gotten into Misao? He had known her to be restless before, but if Okon was this worried…  
  
When they reached the training hall, Okon left him to tend to the customers in the Aoiya. Aoshi stood in the doorway, watching soundlessly as Misao, obviously tiring, forced herself through pattern after pattern, attack after attack. She seemed to fight the shadows in the room, or perhaps she was just moving to the rainfall outside. Whatever her motivation, something kept her going throughout her very clear pain.  
  
Noticing his presence for the first time, she halted in her routine without turning to face him.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked. Aoshi started at the bluntness in her voice, but managed to speak without showing his surprise.  
  
"Okon says you should be resting."  
  
"Am I a child? Do I need to be told what to do? I can take care of myself, thank you Shinomori-san."  
  
"Nani? Misao, what is going on?"  
  
She turned to face him, and he was even more startled to see the traces of tears on her cheeks. "Why do you care? Leave me alone!" Angered, she threw a kunai viciously into the wooden doll, rocking it back on its sturdy post. Aoshi took a step closer.  
  
"Misao," he said in a softer tone, "tell me what's wrong."  
  
She whirled around and took up a fighting stance. "Wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong! You don't give a damn about me except as some pathetic little girl who needs to be taught good from evil! Yet, you haven't even made peace with yourself for your own sins, you just seem to pile all the blame upon your shoulders and block out every emotion to deal with the burden! You're not made of stone, Shinomori Aoshi! You're a human being with a human heart, and I just wish you'd start acting like one! No one can possibly be so cold as you! Even Saitou-san has a wife at home, one he protects by keeping hidden away from his enemies! But you, what do you have, Aoshi-sama? You have your illogical guilt and your blank stone face; you have your quiet acceptance and your frozen heart!" These words she tossed at him as if she were drowning in a sea of vowels and consonants, apparently having wanted to lift this off her chest for quite some time. Tears flew freely from her ocean-blue eyes now, coursing down her pale cheeks to hit the wooden floor with a splash. All this time, Aoshi hadn't said one word, but the distress in his heart was evident each time he reeled back from a shouted phrase. But Misao was all out of words now, all out of pent-up passion that had threatened to choke her. Suddenly unable to support her own weight, she crumpled to the ground as her small body was racked with sobs.  
  
Aoshi had no idea what to do. He found his legs taking him over to her broken form, enfolding her in his arms as he kneeled down in front of her. They sat like that, in an awkward embrace, for all of ten minutes before Misao's sobs began gradually ceasing. Her shoulders stopped quaking and her breathing was quiet once more, not the erratic panting that had nearly stopped his heart. Her face was pressed to his shoulder, her tears soaking the black material of his gi. Neither of them said a word as Aoshi scooped her into his arms and rose from the floor. He passed an eavesdropping Okon and Omasu on the way out, ignoring their surprised faces as he entered his own room and placed Misao gently onto the futon. She still had a few tears leaking out of her beautiful eyes, eyes that followed him while he exited the room and came back with a cup of tea in his hand. He made her sit up and drink the whole thing, until she was calm once more. With calloused strong hands, he eased her back down onto the futon. For a while, she just lay there with her chest rising as he sat down and watched her watching him.  
  
"At least I got you out of the training hall."  
  
Misao's eyes opened wide, and she swatted his arm. "Aoshi-sama!"  
  
His face held the barest trace of a smile as he said, "Well I did, didn't I? And I got an emotional barrage for my efforts."  
  
Misao blushed and scooted farther under the covers, embarrassed at her outburst. "Gomen nasai, Aoshi-sama. I didn't mean to say all that."  
  
"Yes you did, you spoke from your heart. I envy you that. And what you said was true." Misao opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with his finger on her lips.  
  
"Don't argue with me. You're right. I do hide behind my sins and push my emotions away. I also push away the people I love. Much the same way Saitou keeps Tokio hidden away. But I don't think I've ever told these people, or person in particular why I'm pushing them away."  
  
"You have your reasons-  
  
Again, he cut her off. "That's no excuse. I'm sorry, Misao, for causing you so much pain. I'm sorry for leaving you here when Hannya, Beshimi, Hyotokko, Shijukso and I left for Tokyo. I'm sorry for making you cry when I attacked Okina. I'm sorry for never telling you how much I cared for you." Misao's eyes were wide as she listened to his apologies; she knew how much this was hurting him. Tentatively, she reached out her hand to touch the side of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into the palm of her hand.  
  
"You're not a child anymore, Misao, I was stupid to try and convince myself that you were. I thought that if I pretended you needed looking after, I could continue to take care of you without letting you know how I really felt. It was selfish, but it hurt me too."  
  
"Aoshi-sama…" she said quietly. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, his blue-green depths were blazing with something she had never seen before.  
  
"Misao…Can you ever forgive me?" No sooner had the words left his mouth than Misao burst into tears and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to the futon to bury her face in his chest. Aoshi reached his own arms around her, pulling her slightly off the mattress. He let her sweet fragrance consume him, he was lost in the sensation of something so much purer and softer than he.  
  
"Baka…Aoshi-sama, you're such a baka," she choked out between her tears. He smiled slightly in return, holding her closer to his hard frame.  
  
"Don't cry, Misao-mine, ai shiteru…"  
  
"N-nani?" she sniffled, pulling back to look at him. He looked at her with such love in his gaze that a blush rose in her cheeks. He didn't miss it as he bent his head down to brush a soft kiss against her slightly parted mouth, watching as her eyes slid shut and she made a small noise of pleasure. After that, he was content just to hold her, waiting until she had fallen asleep in his arms. Outside, the rain finally slowed, then stopped, the cloud mass breaking to let a small sliver of afternoon sun shine through. Aoshi released the slumbering ninja girl onto the futon and stood up to return to the temple, this time not for meditation and atonement but to give thanks to the gods for giving him Makimachi Misao.  
  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
A/N: Do you think I ended it too abruptly? Revisions are always ready to be made at the drop of a review, so please tell me what you think! Any feedback is welcome, positive comments are always a pleasure. ^^ 


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